


Sense of Loss

by richterimberg



Category: Ao no Exorcist | Blue Exorcist
Genre: Discussion of Death, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-07
Updated: 2019-11-07
Packaged: 2021-01-24 20:46:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21344467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/richterimberg/pseuds/richterimberg
Summary: It’s been a year since Shiro died. Rin has a long chat about the nature of such things with another visitor to his grave.(Rated for language.)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 48





	Sense of Loss

It was raining when Rin stepped off the bus near his old monastery. It was a warm, spring shower, but nonetheless it came down in sheets just short of a downpour. There was little wind, but that was only a small comfort, as he had no umbrella and no hood and had made the mistake of not checking the forecast. It had only been overcast when he woke up, but he guessed it fit his mood well enough.

Frowning at the gloomy grey blanket of clouds above, he hunched his head into the collar of his jacket, stuffed his hands in his pockets, and walked towards the gate, hearing the dull thwap of his sneakers against the wet pavement of the sidewalk.

Making his way to the graveyard out back, he almost felt bad about coming here without Yukio or Kuro. But then, his nerves felt a bit too raw to visit his father’s grave in anyone else’s company. Maybe another time. Really, any day but the year anniversary of his biggest failure to date was ok.

As he passed through the rows of headstones, each in varying states of weathering from the elements, some adorned with flowers and gifts from visitors, Rin glanced up to the one he was heading for, and to his surprise he noticed a solitary figure in front of it, white top hat perched on his head and gaudy pink umbrella open over his head. He was staring down at the grave with a face that looked unusually solemn in the absence of its customary fanged grin.

Before Rin could decide whether he wanted to approach anyway or forget the whole business and come back another time, Mephisto glanced in his direction, quiet sincerity replaced in a flash by a crooked eyebrow and an amused smirk. “Ah, Okumura-kun. Is this the new trend? Walking around looking like a drowned cat?” He eyed Rin’s sodden figure with disdain.

Rin scowled slightly, shaking out his wet hair. It had no real effect. “It wasn’t raining when I left this morning,” he replied defensively. “What are you doing here, anyway?”

Mephisto looked taken aback by the question. “Why, visiting the grave of an old friend, of course. It’s the least I can do to pay my respects to the dearly departed.”

“Yeah, well, missing the whole funeral and showing up after it’s done to threaten me doesn’t look very respectful on you,” Rin pointed out.

A derisive snort. “Please. Does church sound like a place any demon would willingly find himself? I may have a twisted sense of humour, but that’s beyond even me,” Mephisto said, rolling his umbrella between his fingers and watching the patterns of pink and purple spin slowly above him. “Not to mention, it’s a pitiful ritual at best.”

Rin’s eyebrows narrowed as he watched the demon king’s untroubled expression. “Excuse me?” In the back of his mind, he had to remind himself not to start fistfights over his late father’s grave.

“Well...” Mephisto hummed as he thought. “Let’s put it this way. You humans spend a handful of decades on this earth preaching the values of love and friendship and such, but when it comes time for you to pass on all the people in your life care about is getting you out of there as quickly as possible. You could be alive on Monday, and be in the ground by Friday and everyone you know will spend the rest of their days avoiding the topic of you like the plague.” He sighed. “Let alone the funerals themselves. You come together for an hour to spout platitudes about souls and heaven and love and whatnot and then you go and throw the corpse in a hole out back as though it means something more than tossing out last week’s trash. I can’t decide if it takes longer than it should or if it isn’t nearly long enough.”

By this time Rin’s hands had curled tightly into fists at his sides as he glared at Mephisto, who still looked completely at ease. A few moments of silence passed where the only sounds he could hear were the pattering of water around them and his own carefully controlled breathing as he struggled not to break anyone’s nose.

“‘Pay respects’ my ass,” Rin finally ground out. “Why’d you come here if all you’re gonna do is talk shit on the old man? Go the hell back to your mansion.”

The humour slowly disappeared from Mephisto’s face, returning to the same look of distant unhappiness as before as he glanced back at the headstone. He seemed to trace the words on it with his eyes, and with far more care than his earlier remarks had had, before he finally replied, “Honestly, I’ve been wondering the same thing.”

They stood a few moments more in the deluge, gazing at the cross in silence. Some part of Rin’s mind that had never truly accepted Shiro’s death half expected the man to suddenly appear and clear up this tense meeting for them, round glasses shining as he laughed and clapped them on the shoulders. But, of course, the marble was as still and stalwart as it always had been, and always would be.

He thought back to what Mephisto had said about the business of death, and how it was either dealt with too quickly or not quickly enough. Despite himself, he was starting to understand where he was coming from with that statement. A couple hours wasn’t nearly enough time to celebrate Father Fujimoto’s many years of life. And especially not when those hours were spent repeating all the same words and motions they did for all the other deceased. It felt like one big show they were all putting on for each other. Like they were just doing it so they could get it over with and move on with their lives. As Mephisto said.

Jeez. It was some kinda day when he found himself agreeing with the head clown.

“It’s so strange.”

Rin looked back at Mephisto, having almost forgotten he was still there.

“I’m one of the Demon Kings of Gehenna. All of time and space are under my control. I have existed for millennia, and watched so many beings come into and leave this world. And yet...” he paused, seeming unsure of what he was about to say. His already furrowed brow narrowed further. “I wonder... how can one death impact me so?”

The pent-up rage and indignation from earlier was all but gone. Rin stared openly, trying to process what he was hearing.

“Mephisto...” he began, trying to put words to the thought in his head. “You really do care, don’t you?”

Mephisto looked back at him in shock. His green eyes shone like marbles in the one, two, three seconds before he suddenly burst into raucous laughter. He doubled over enough that he lost his umbrella on the way down, and it tumbled into a shallow puddle. Ordinarily, Rin would just assume it was him being an insufferable jackass again, but it was a little too loud and a little too high-pitched and sounded more desperate than anything else.

He waited for the laughter to die down to almost stifled giggles and for Mephisto to pick up his discarded pink atrocity, flick the water from it, and pull it closed before he pushed forward. “You’re always talking about how demons don’t have hearts, and maybe I’m just half demon so I don’t completely understand what it’s like, but Umaimon-”

“Amaimon.”

“Yeah, him. I’ve seen him get excited and upset and angry over all sorts of things. And he doesn’t really look like he’s as obsessed with his image as you are, so I don’t think he’s lying about any of that,” Rin said. “I think... maybe you do have one, you just didn’t know it before?”

Mephisto started snickering again, but this time it fell quite flat as his grin was pulled into more of a grimace than anything else. He leaned on his umbrella as if it were a cane. “An expert on demon psychology, are you, now? That would be a neat trick. If after all this time...” He tipped the brim of his hat as he turned again towards Shiro’s headstone. He didn’t seem to intend to finish the thought.

Rin didn’t think he’d ever felt anything kinder than irritation towards the headmaster before, but as he watched Mephisto stare down at the marker, looking as if all the centuries he had lived were etched in the lines of his face and the dark circles under his eyes, he felt a twinge of something like sympathy.

“...Did you love him?” Mephisto finally said, still not looking at Rin.

Rin shifted his weight and shoved his hands back into his pockets. “...Yeah. I did,” he replied quietly.

A single, soft laugh. It seemed almost fond.

“He was lucky, then. To have you kids.”

Mephisto turned to him, a cordial smile on his face as he took his umbrella up in one hand.

“Well, then. This has been a nice chat, Okumura-kun, but I must be on my way now,” he said with a smile that seemed a shade less threatening than it usually did. “I’ll leave you to your business.”

“Yeah, uh, thanks,” Rin managed as Mephisto strolled past him toward the road. “See you later.” He only received a hum in response.

As Rin watched Mephisto’s cloaked figure disappear into the city, he noticed that the rain had relented slightly, becoming a sprinkle instead of a shower. He shook out his hair again, not expecting any results, but doing it all the same. A slight smile found its way onto his face as he walked up to Shiro’s gravestone and crouched in front of it.

“I’m gonna do good by you, Dad,” he spoke to the empty air. “I’ll never forget you. Promise.”

And as Rin ran his thumb across the stone, following the curves of the name and dates, he almost thought he could hear a voice that said, _You’d better not!_

Must have been his imagination.

**Author's Note:**

> this is how i process things now, i think. i just pick some characters and give them my problems


End file.
